


It’s Just Biology, Isn’t It?

by orphan_account



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Alpha John Wick, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst and Tragedy, Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Day drinking, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Graphic Violence, Gun Violence, Gunshot Wounds, I don’t know what this is, Imprisonment, John Needs A Hug, Knotting, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nesting, Omega Reader, One Night Stands, Porn With Plot, Pretty much anti!hero, Rating May Change, Reader Is Badass, Rutting, Slow Burn, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Swearing, Tags May Change, Unexpected Heats/Unwilling Heats, a lot of swearing, and.... also sometimes a bad person, but who is a hero if you’re killing people?, like a lot, no beta we die like men, so do you, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23607733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You hold in a desperate sound that threatens to leave your mouth. Warm vanilla, sweet cinnamon—not burnt, not stomach-twistingly spicy, just... enough. Perfectly enough that it sends warmth up your legs. Dangerously powerful. Green grass, a forest set aflame— his scent lingers stubbornly deep in your lungs that you feel like you’re choking on it. Sweet lemons, soft blankets, caramelized sugar, chocolate tarts, Crème brûlée... fuck, fuck,  fuck. He smells so powerful, is so powerful, alpha—
Relationships: Addy & Reader, John Wick/Reader, John Wick/You, Winston & Reader
Comments: 34
Kudos: 161





	1. Less Than Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Welcome to ‘It’s Just Biology, Isn’t It?’ A fic filled with smut, ruts, heats, fluff and feelings.
> 
> Buckle yourselves up because we’re going on a ride

The Continental smells like a pit of hormones.

_ That’s, well... because it is. And gods, is it fucking annoying. _

Jammed packed with the overwhelming scent of hot spice, bitter aggression and acidic, puffed-up egos that completely eclipses the underlying smell of betas and omegas. It mingles, the strong, almost sickening smell of fresh pine wood and fire and lung-heaving ash.  _Fuck_ , it smells intoxicating. They don’t take suppressants, don’t try and hide their scents. _Because why would they? Why_ _ wouldn’t they want you to know that they are alphas? Fuck, they couldn’t shove it farther up anyone’s ass even if they  tried , and hell— they’ve tried. Multiple times._

_ Oh, look at me! I’m an alpha and I kill people! _

Your throat bobs and your face scrunches up in momentary disgust at the thought when you walk to the front desk, boots scuffing against the floor. _There’s eyes on you. Always eyes on you. They sense something, you know it._ They know what you are, but it’s none of their fucking business— so you keep your head high, always keep extra perfume in your bag to mute the smell, and take your suppressants and everything is okay.

Flipping Charon a coin, you smile. It’s small and it’s cheesy, but genuine, nonetheless. Charon’s a nice man— he’s a beta. His scent is weak, but from what you gather, it’s mossy, honeyish, a type of almost woody-oriental smell that’s  just strong enough to pick up on. It’s calming, not nearly as fiery or strong as an alpha’s scent, but not considered as sweet or floral as an omega’s. It’s just...  there. Almost like an light aftertaste: a calming kind of one. When he smiles back, his eyes crinkle at the sides.

“Y/L/N,” he greets. His scent fluctuates, and there’s that calming sensation rolling over your body, calming your nerves, almost as though your swimming in thick, syrupy honey. The smell floats and waves in your nose. “Welcome back.”

“Charon,” you nod your head and clap your hands together. “I’ll be staying here for a little longer, need a room.”

“It’s Always a pleasure to have you,” he says and pulls out a card, sliding it across the countertop. “Please, do enjoy your stay.”

Grabbing the card and saluting him, you smile again. “When don’t I?”

A low, quiet laugh erupts from his chest and your eyes soften. There’s that smell again. Sweet, calming pine and sweet, mouth-watering honey. You decide it’s too early to retire to your room, so you give him a final wave goodbye and head down to the bar. Sliding a coin through the door, you brace yourself, knowing that it’ll reek of dry, bitter spice. And it does — go figure , and your nostrils flare with the strength of it. It’s strong down here, compact and far from refined, a annoying tidal wave of hormones jumping and falling with the beat of blaring music. It’s heavy, like a dark rain cloud looming over every single fucking person. And the smell... _gods_. It‘s like you’re drowning in alcohol. Who drinking this early? There’s soft undertones of green grass, sweet hot-coco and walks in the rain. _Hot firewood, tangy bourbon, home-made, banana bread andglazed, sugar-dusted cinnamon buns._ A deep swirling pool of alphas, omegas, betas, sweat and alcohol. It’s everywhere, in every corner and up everyone’s nose. It’s almost suffocating, letting up just enough to the point where you can suck in a deep breath— _fuck_ , it’s like liquid fire got shot straight up your nose and into your eyes, on your tongue, in your head— a bubble of a headache threatening to burst open into something so overwhelmingly hormonic.

You find the bar fast, weaving past kissing couples and grinding dancers, all smelling so sickeningly sweet and sweaty. You spot a familiar head of dark brown hair, and her scent is quick to reach your nose, even from halfway across the room. _Gods_ , is it strong.  _Crashing ocean waves, salty water, late-night bond fires and sweet chocolatey s’mores._ Addy. Your heart soars, and you find yourself walking a little faster at seeing her at the bar counter. Addy, she’s an omega, just like you. A beautiful woman, really. With long, past-shoulder length hair wrapped messily on the top of her head, an array of tattoos covering her right arm the bottom of her neck, just far enough up from her scent gland.

When she sees you from her peripheral, her head snaps to the side so fast you’re afraid she’ll get whiplash. Her eyes widen at the sight of you, and she gives you a lopsided smile, gesturing you over to a empty spot by the bar.

Addy leans against the counter when you sit, hands clasped together in eager. Her eyes sparkle just right underneath the club lights, and you can see her shoulders nearly vibrate.“Y/N!”

You laugh, pushing your arms onto the counter to get a better look at her.

“Addy,” you say kindly, chewing on your tongue at the feeling of saying her name after so long. It almost felt foreign. “Oh my god, how have you been? I didn’t expect to see you.”

She shrugs, tilting her head. “I’ve been good, really good. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long, almost worried me there.”

You wave her off playfully. “Oh please, I’ve been off doing work.”

She laughs, the sound sweet and low. “Killing bad guys?”

“You bet,” You wink, “What can I say? I’m just a killing machine.”

Both of you laugh, and you smell her scent wave through the air.  _Water sploshing against docked ships, sand in between your toes, sprouting sunflowers and sour lavender_ _._ You barely notice when her face falls, lips parting slowly to smell the air— smell  you. A look of confusion passes her features, and then one of growing disappointment.

“Suppressants?”

You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back. “Addy—“

“Why?” she asks, frowning.

“ Mmm, ” you hum and sigh. “Mandatory.”

“Oh come on,” she says, an edge of annoyance starting to bleed through. Addy waves her hands around. “I thought you stopped those? They fuck you up, and stuff.”

“I don’t have time for going into heat, Addy.” you point out.

“That’s not what I’m referring to— and wait, you’re taking heat suppressants, too? The fuck?” she barks out a laugh, hitting you playfully on the arm, but it’s rougher than usual, and you have a feeling she’s actually starting to get mad. “Oh, come on, Y/N.”

You shrug. “I don’t want to worry about going into heat, besides, I don’t need any alphas or betas within a ten foot radius knowing I’m there when I’m working. I-it just... isn’t good for work.”

“But,” Addy clicks her tongue, sighing. “You probably have headaches, don’t you?”

“Oh,” you laugh. “They’re bad.”

Concern flashes in her eyes. “Y/N,” she says warningly.

“I’m  joking ,”  _Fuck_ _, no you weren’t_. “It’s really not all that bad, Ad.”

She looks like she wants to say something else, but chooses not to. “I don’t agree, at  all, but I know how fucking stubborn you are. Drink?”

“Wine,” you reply slowly. “Please.”

Addy nods, and moves to the wall of alcohol behind her to fish a bottle of red off. “You know, you should let your scent show, at least.” she says behind her shoulder at you. “It’s just.. weird, not being able to smell you.”

She turns dramatically and gives you a deep frown. “I wanna smell my friend after so long. Now your scent is probably fucked with all those suppressants.” 

You shake your head, looking to the side. “Still not good for work.”

“Well, are you on work?” Addy grabs a glass from the below the counter and set it down, popping the wine bottle and filling it half way.

You chew on your bottom lip. “...No?”

“How long are you staying?”

“Oh, come on—“

“How long are you staying?” she presses, capping the bottle and putting it away.

“Maybe a week,” you say, quiet enough for her to hear.

“Then why don’t you get some time off your suppressants?” she offers, leaning back over the counter. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“I can’t do that, Addy.”

“Why?” she pouts sadly. “God, your scent is annoying me. It smells so... fake. It’s gross.”

You give her a glare, furrowing your brow. “I smell... gross?”  _Really laying it on thick, damn._

Addy nods. “It smells like you dipped yourself in chemicals, it just isn’t right.”

“I don’t know, Ad.” you say cautiously. “If I get off, my heat might start right back up again to try and even out the balance in my body. I’m just not trying to go through that right now.”

She smiles devilishly. “You can always make a little nest in your room. Ya know, a little something to take the edge off.”

Choking back on your spit, you stare at her in surprise. “ Addy, ” you hiss.

“You can probably pick up some alphas, too.” she continues, wiggling her eyebrows. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Go out and have fun. Get a little dirty.”

Your face is burning now and you’re scared of what you probably look like. It’s been long, too fucking long, you can admit that. And to say that you haven’t thought about getting off and having some fun, you’d be lying. Big time. It was genetic, for an omega and alpha to mate— and you’ve denied yourself that so long, the pleasure of having sex with someone, but it’s for a reason. Maybe it was work, maybe it’s the fact that it’ll make work harder for you— as it did every omega you knew in this line of work. Well, expect for Addy, maybe. Maybe... you want to wait for someone special, but you never would admit that to yourself, or to anyone else, you just  _couldn’t_. Should you have fun? Should you, by Addy’s words, ‘get dirty’?

“I don’t know,” you say quietly.

Addy grabs your hands in hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze. Your nostrils twitch.  _Chocolate s’mores, summer rain, the salty taste of ocean water, burning summer sun, raging seas, sweet, icy strawberry popsicles and blooming flowers._

_You smell gross. You smell gross? Gods, you probably smell horrible— all suppression and synthetic and fake: chemicals and acidic. Maybe using suppressants was a bad idea, maybe you ruined your scent. FUCK! What if you ruined your scent after using suppressants for so long? What if you smell gross forever— Your heart goes into overdrive.  Never going to find an alpha, alphas are never going to love you! Fuck, what if alphas don’t like the way—_

“It’ll be fun,” Addy’s voice cuts through your thoughts. “Come on, Y/N. I can’t stand the way you smell right now,” she laughs. “I want to be around my friend,  without the smell of chemicals going up my nose.”

You sigh in defeat. 

_ What is alphas don’t find you attractive? Alphas won’t like your scent! Fuck, fuck, FUCK! What have you done? Get off these suppressants! Alphas won’t love you, shit, alphas won’t think you fit for their pu— _

_ Honestly, SHUT UP! _

Your fingers twitch. “Fine,” you say and before Addy can reply, you hold your hand up. “But only for this week. And fucking  god , if I end up going into heat because of my unbalanced shit then I  swear, Addy, I’ll hit you.”

Her eyes soften, and she pats your cheek lovingly. “Of course you will. Until then, sit back, spend some time with me! We can go shopping, maybe look around for some alphas—“

“Look around for alphas?” you lean back in your seat, giving her a glare. “It’ll take a few days to get the suppressants out of my bloodstream. Until then, the only thing I’m fucking doing is sleeping.”

“Oh, come on!” Addy puffs out her cheeks, slapping her hands against the counter. “Stop being such a fucking party-pooper. Let’s go out, come on. Just you, me, and a bottle of whiskey. Maybe, if we’re lucky, we can go clubbing.”

“I’m  tired, Ad.” you grumble. “Not to mention I don’t want to hook up with some random, horny alpha who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

Addy juts out her hip and crosses her arms. You snort, grabbing your glass and downing red in one go. Your throat slightly burns because of it, but you pay no mind.When you look up, she’s still staring at you like you’ve grown another head.  _The fuck? What was she looking at? Was she looking at something behind—_

“ Addy, I—“

Then the smell 

Just

Hits

You.

Hard.

“Ladies, how are you?”

It’s strong, almost  too strong. Turning in your seat, a head of curly hair is first to catch your attention. Secondly, his dark blue suit. You feel your nose scrunch and worry that it’ll burn off with the strength of his scent. It’s everywhere, and you know Addy senses it, too.  Alpha. He reeks of confidence and ego, a mix of _leather, spicy tobacco and burnt cinnamon, a forest of black pine during cold winter months and the soft underlying smell of something sweet... almost like... fudge ice cream?_ It comes at you in waves, and it’s fast and relentless. When he looks at you, you see his nostrils flare. He smells you. Barely. It’s covered mostly by the ‘synthetic, fake, chemically’ smell Addy keeps complaining about and the smell of your purfume. He knows it’s suppressants, they all do. It’s not hard to catch on, but to say the face of disgust he makes when he realizes it doesn’t offend you, you’d be lying to yourself. Because damn, does it strike a nerve.

_ What? He’s never met an omega taking suppressants? _

His eyes snap away from you and onto Addy and you watch carefully as his eyes nearly fall shut with one whiff of her. You feel your blood begin to boil, stomach flipping and kicking with growing rage. You know they probably smell it. Hot, bitter, mouth-drying anger coming from you, but If Addy or he notices, they sure as hell don’t show it.

“Santino,” the man says. “Santino D’Antonio.”

She gives him a small, forced smile. “Addy,” she replies. “Just Addy, please.”

“Addy?” Santino rolls the name over in his mouth, testing it. “Beautiful name, really. Very unique.”

You roll your eyes and grab your glass to find purchase on something, anything to keep you from shaking with the rage twirling in your stomach. It helps, well— sort of, you guess. Your stomach doesn’t stop lurching and your legs don’t stop shaking.  Gods , you feel so embarrassed and mad.

_ The way he looked at you? Fuck! He hated your smell, he hated you. Why do you care though? Who the fuck is he? You shouldn’t care what the fuck this random ass alpha thinks about you— do all alphas hate how you smell? _

The glass creaks under your fingers.

_Jesus, you probably smell so gross. The way he looked at you with such disgust, do all alphas think of you as smelling disgusting?_

“You are very beautiful, you know.” Santino continues, learning on the counter next to you. His scent is stronger, now. Shooting so far up your nose you feel a headache bubble and pop in your head. “I don’t do this often,” he says smugly.  _Smug ass bitch_.  “You wanna have dinner some time, love?”

You slam the glass down on the counter, Addy’s and Santino’s head snapping to your place at the bar. “Look,  _alpha_ , why don’t you go ahead and leave us alone?” you try and growl, _try and be dominant, but fuck, your body is screaming at you to give in. But you can’t— won’t._

Santino’s eyes narrow, fists clenching at his sides.  _He’s mad. An alphas mad at you. Alpha’s—_

He laughs and you feel your muscles tense. “Who was I talking to, omega?”

Your eyes widen at that, him, calling you your fucking— you take a deep breath. You try and fight it, the little fucking growing submissive thing inside you wanting oh, so desperately to respond to alpha. _An_ a _lpha asked you a question._ You’re too prideful to back down, but so is he. His eyes burn and his scent wafts around you like water filling in a cup. It’s suffocating, the smell of fire— ash and unfiltered, centered  rage. You’re fighting hard to hold onto that last sliver of dignity you have, but when he speaks again, you feel your pride snap and break: 

“Who was I talking to, _omega_ ?” he repeats again, and there’s venom in his voice. 

You shift your body away, shrinking in on yourself and _you hate it so fucking bad. Hate submitting to this asshole_ , and when his scent fills with satisfaction, you nearly feel tears prick at your eyes.  Fuck!

He says something to Addy, but you can barely hear with the blaring static in your ears. Christ, you feel so fucking weak and disgusting. You let him win, and you decide it’s time to leave because anywhere is better than sitting at a bar next to someone who made you feel so goddamn disappointed in yourself. You slide a coin over the counter, giving Addy a small, defeated nod before leaving. She calls your name, a worried sound— but you ignore it. You feel holes being burned into the back of your head and you choke back on a heart-wrenching whimper that almost rips through your throat when you leave the bar. 

It smells better, at least. But the feeling in your chest is still there, hurting just the same. You shove your hands into your pockets and hang your head low, muttering expletives under your breath. 

_ Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck fuck! That prick! You’re so goddamn weak, oh my god. Tried standing up to a damn alpha, what did you expect? Stupid fucking omega— _

Pain explodes in your shoulder when you hit something hard, and before you have to react, you’re already falling onto the floor. You don’t scream, hell, you don’t even react until your back slams against the floor with a loud, gross, bone-splitting bang that’s so loud it almost echos in the main hall. _If this day couldn’t get any more fucking embarrassing? Fall straight onto your ass because of how fucking dumb you are that you didn’t watch where you were going._

You sit up, ignoring the pain that’s blossoming against your back and your gaze snaps to the tall man looming over you. White shirt, black jeans, longer black hair, brown eyes, handsome.  Very handsome. Dog.  _Dog_?

“ Are you okay?” his voice is deep and dark, laced with worry. You shake your hands, stand to your feet and wipe off your jeans. _Fucking Christ, you must seem like an idiot._

He reaches out to steady you but you pull away when his hand almost falls to your scent gland. You stare at him, brows furrowing in anger. 

“Wh—“

When you open your mouth to speak, your mouth fills with the scent of him. It’s like a thick fog, rising and pushing against the roof of your mouth. Your eyes widen in surprise. _Oh my god, god, oh my_ _—_ you hold in a desperate sound that threatens to leave your mouth. _Warm vanilla, sweet cinnamon— not burnt, not stomach-twistingly spicy, just... enough._ Perfectly enough that it sends warmth up your legs. _Dangerously powerful. Green grass, a forest set aflame— his scent lingers stubbornly deep in your lungs that you feel like you’re choking on it. Sweet lemons, soft blankets, caramelized sugar, chocolate tarts, Crème brûlée..._ _fuck, fuck,fuck. He smells so powerful, is so powerful, alpha—_

You choke back on another sound, deep in your throat. You nod your head and he’s staring at you with such intensity you feel your legs start to wobble. Your heart starts to race alongside your brain, suddenly zoning in on his arms, watching the muscles ripple and move underneath the fabric of his white shirt— _oh my god, why is it so tight?_

Despite your suppressants, _despite fucking everything_ , you feel that warm pressure build between your hip bones, ridiculous and _so fucking hot_. You force your legs together, clasp your hands so tight together that the knuckles are so fucking white and— _oh my god, you feel yourself getting wetter by the second,  __and, and - My god, no._

_ STOP! _

He nods, slowly, and _god_ , the way he’s looking at you— you wish you’d be swallowed up by the floor. Without much as a word, he turns toward the front desk.

Charon witnessed everything happen, you notice. You feel your cheeks burn, and you turn on your heel, walking straight for the elevator. When you turn to the side panel, you notice the man looking your way. Biting back a small groan, you pull your keycard from your pocket and press the button to the seventh floor. You see his brows furrow before the doors slide shut.

_ Needless to say, it’s going to be one hell of a fucking night.  
_  
And you are far from excited.   



	2. Is It Hot In Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW.  
> Enjoy! <3

Wiggling against the bedsheets, you press your face into the pillows, which by now, were soaking in your spit and drool, _but you dont care, not when the only thing you had in mind was the_ _ heat between your  fucking legs._

“F-fucking—“ you choke on your words, kicking out your legs when a wave of pent up sexual frustration lights your body on fire. “Please-  _please ,  alpha_, I-“

_ The way alpha looked at you- sweet, sweet cinnamon, lemons, god, god! Oh, fuck, alpha smells so good. _

Pressing your arm over your nose, _the arm alpha touched_ \-  you let out a desperate wail against the skin, eyes rolling back at the scent of alpha on your skin— drool pools in your mouth, spilling over when you move your reposition your tongue, and it nearly disgusts you at the thought of it, but you’re pulled back into that ocean of growing pleasure and the thought quickly slips away.

Your breathing is hitched, _and his scent—_ _ oh my ggggggodddd... _ you’re choking on it, choking on him, and you couldn’t care less. You couldn’t give less of a shit, the only thing mattering the smell of your alpha and your sweet, sweet release.  His smell... oh my, oh lord, It’s pressing against every corner of your mouth, it’s up your nose, so far up your nose that it _ hurts.Hurts so fucking good._

“.... _Alpha_ ,” you whimper, biting into the skin of your arm so hard it draws blood. A fever is rising in you, a heat so extraordinarily strong and overwhelming that is swallows you up completely — and you’re on engulfed in flames. Your free hand moves down to the waistband of your jeans, popping the buttons and desperately fumbling with the zipper.  _You can’t handle it anymore, the feeling of desire that’s so powerful that it feels like it could break your bones, and hell, it might._

“I—“  _ please, alpha, please— you’ll be good for alpha, alpha, FUCK! Need alpha to knot you, need alpha to fill you because you just can’t fulfill that satisfaction by yourself— oh my god, god, you’ll beg your alpha... just need.. alpha! _

When your hand slides under the band of your underwear to circle your clit, you nearly scream into your arm, back arching off the bed and hips canting into the air wildly, just so you can chase that feeling of release—

You spit, pulling your arm away when you feel like you’re about to run out of air, only to press it back against your lips when your body shakes with the shock of alpha’s scent leaving your nose.  It’s intoxicating, his smell. Like a drug that’s so fucking addicting and you want  more. _Need_ more.Fuck, you feel so helpless when you push your fingers in, and  _holy fucking hell_ , there’s no resistance there, just hot, wet slick sliding over your fingers and your knuckles when you give a hard, rough thrust.

Eyes rolling back, you move your legs under you to hump the air, tears pricking at your eyes from the lack of friction, _the lack of your alpha’s knot_ , a nd _fuck_ , you’re just so desperate for it that you almost feel disgusting . And your fingers thrust harder, unholy, obscene sounds muffled by the denim of your jeans.

_ Need to smell alpha... alpha! Alpha! Fill you with his pu— _

You  moan, the sound so loud you’re afraid for a moment that anyone in the surrounding rooms can hear you, but you push that thought away, picking up speed and thrashing against the bed. _You’re desperate, so_ _ fucking desperate that it’s almost sad— a foolish, sex-driven omega humping the air because she had one encounter with an alpha that she wanted to fuck—  and hell, if someone said you’d be here tonight, fucking your self raw on your fingers, you wouldn’t believe them._

The bed’s a mess, and you know that your slick completely soaked through your jeans, through the sheets, but you pay no mind when you add another finger, gasping at the stretch: pressing your face into the sheets, you feel yourself begin to cry, spit smearing against the pillow case.

“— _Alpha_!” you cry, biting your lip and kicking your right leg out over the sheets, grinding frantically against the bed. “I— I need,  _gods_ , I just need to-“

You feel the heat begin to build, higher and higher, until the only thing that matters is _this_ , and  _oh my god_ , you’re growling like an animal— and when you move your thumb to press down on you clit: you cum. _So fucking hard_.

 _It’s painful, fuck, it’s so fucking painful_ —  it forces white in your eyes, exploding stars and _fuck_ , the world moves so fucking fast, way too fucking fast for you to comprehend, blankets twisting underneath you and you hate the feeling of it scratching against your sensitive skin, hate the pool of slick on your skin— the growing pool of slick on the covers, in between your legs, so wet and annoying that you almost let out a frustrated scream.

You lean back down against the bed, legs giving out into a tired, painful, sweaty pile against the covers.  _ And gods, every thing hurts so fucking bad._

Huffing out a laugh, you must be a  fucking _sight_. Hair slicked down across your forehead with sweat, face red and flushed and splayed across the bed like a fucking whore, eyes half-lidded and dark with the specter of sex— dripping with black, lustful desire that swallows the color in your eyes whole. A thought is quick to linger in your mind:  _what if alpha saw you? Oh my god, alpha! Alpha would love you, right?_

Your fingers ache when you pull them out of your pants, and they glisten in the dim light with your slick and cum.

And your face scrunches up in disgust, wiping your juices across the front of your jeans. It’s gross, but given the state your jeans are in already, you don’t bring yourself to care. Staring at the ceiling, you whimper at the feeling of...  _emptiness_. _You felt so fucking empty. So alone, fuck, it sucks._

You just came to the thought of a man you barely fucking new, and damn, the realization of it all hits you like a fucking freight train. _Are you really that fucking sex deprived? Can you really not not keep your hands jammed between your legs?_ Jesus fucking Christ, you feel icky and gross and it’s way too goddamn hot in your room now and you only have yourself to blame. Your legs feel like they’re on fire, and you swear your hand is going to be all cramped up by morning.

 _And that heat between your legs... it’s still very much there, but it’s dulling, even if it’s slow as shit._ _Well, at least it’s going away._ You pull your jeans off, groaning in disgust when the jeans have trouble coming off from where the denim is so wet but when you finally get it off, you throw it somewhere beside the bed.

Looking down to the arm that the alpha touched, you open your mouth, just enough to take in the air. _Sex, sweat, tears and drool. Slick, cinnamon, fresh apples, burning pine trees._ You feel slick beginning to ooze again, and you quickly turn over to your side, clamping your legs so tightly together you’re afraid the skin might bruise. Your gland  aches with the shadow of the smell of alpha. 

_The last fucking thing you need right now is to produce more slick. Oh my god, did you make a fuck load._ It’s slippery against the covers and you press your face into the pillows, ignoring the smell of your drool.

_ You need to call room service. _

Groaning at the thought, you feel your cheeks starting to burn. _What are you going to say when you call them?_

_ Hey! Yeah, sorry, I’m an omega that can’t keep her hands out her pants. I got slick everywhere, and I probably destroyed the mattress. Can I get someone to get up to clean it? _

_ You’re an idiot. An idiot with no sense of fucking control. _

A beep resounds in the dark room, and you sit up fast. _Your phone. Fuck, where is it?_ Looking around, you stumble out of bed despite your legs screaming at you not to, almost tripping over the corner of the mattress with the lack of light in the room.

_ Fucking clutz. _

Finally finding your phone— which was thrown on the floor by the door in your desperate haste of needing to relieve the heat between your legs— you pick it up and squint your eyes at the brightness.  _God, you really should’ve turned the brightness down._

_**Unknown, 6:43 PM.** _

**hey y/n! hope this is still your number, let’s go get some food i’m hungry as fuck and i know a good noodle shop down the street (we can also go clubbing) :)**

_ Addy. _

_**You, 6:44 PM.** _

**mind calling me instead??**

You wait until she calls you, and the moment she does, you answer the call and put the phone to your ear. 

“Y/N!” she says through the phone, and she sounds happy, her breath coming out in pants. Was she...  _running_ ? Addy mutters a sorry to someone and the shift of her phone is loud in your ear. “What room are you in? I went shopping and got some things for ya.”

“I,  uhh—“ You move to the light switch on the wall, flipping it and wincing at the light that floods the room.  _The room is fucking mess_ _._ It smells so strongly of cum and slick, the bed sheets stuffed up together in a sad, makeshift nest. “How about I just meet with you?” 

Addy scoffs over the phone, “ _What_? Just tell me what floor you’re on. _God_ — my hands hurt from carrying all this, come on, Y/N.”

You open your mouth, stare at the bed, wet with your slick, and then close it again. Your jeans are on the floor in a gross, sweaty pile and the fact that you have no extra clothes just fucking hits you.  What? _Oh, SHIT! Can Addy help you? Oh my god, you feel disgusting. You’re disgusting, holy fuck, what the fuck?_

 _You’re a fucking idiot. What do you say to her? You can’t have her walk in here with all of __this_.  Your palms feel hot, and you try wiping to wipe the sweat on your top, pulling back when you notice that your shirt is soaked down with spit and drool.

You let out a hysterical laugh, eyes widening and clapping a hand over your lips. 

“Y/N?” Addy grunts over the phone, and a sound comes from the call, probably the elevator, and you hear her sigh. “What floor? _Hellllooo_?”

You swallow down a lump in your throat and press the phone closer to your ear.  _Addy will understand, right? She’s an omega, just like you. She’s had to have gone through this before, it wasn’t anything an omega didn’t go through._

Clearing your throat, you lower your voice until it’s barely above a whisper. “Do you have extra clothes?”

She can barely contain the snort that threatens to leave her lips, and you feel tears brim your eyes when you hear her break into a fit of laughter. “Floor?” she asks again, voice cracking.

“Seventh,” you whisper.

When she laughs, you feel your heart sink. You toe the wall, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth.  _God, you feel so fucking helpless. Did Addy think this was funny? Did she think you were disgusting? Maybe you were, fucks sake, you probably are._

_ What the fuck is wrong with you? _

“ I always keep extra clothes in my work bag,” she says, voice light through the call. “Room number?” 

You forgot— and remember your keycard is in your jeans. You groan, reluctantly walking over to the small pile of wet denim on the floor and fish it out of the back pocket, holding your breath when you notice it’s covered in a thin layer of slick. You flip it over in your fingers, “716.”

Addy hums through the phone, and you hear her breath quickens in pace. No more than a few moments later, there’s a firm knock on your door.

 _Well, that was fast,_ you laugh.

Spinning on your heel, you make way to the door, not bothering to even check to make sure it’s Addy, and opening it just enough to peek your head through. Addy’s eyes widen at the sight of you, hair splayed across your cheeks with sweat, shirt sheer with your spit, and cheeks flushed red with hot, annoying embarrassment. She presses on the door and heads straight into the room, and you quickly close the door behind her to keep the smell from spreading out into the hallway. _Yes, that’s exactly what you need right now. Everyone on the fucking floor to know how desperate you are._

When you turn to say something, her eyes are bulging out of her head, nose scrunched up so far she looks like she’s smelled the most foul smelling scent in the world.

_ Well, shit. _

“What the fuck  _happened_?” she asks, and her voice is high, dripping in raw, raging surprise. “Oh my _god_ , Y/N, did you have an alpha in here?”

Your shake your head so fast your feel the muscles in your neck ache. “No!” you blurt out, wrapping your arms around your chest, suddenly noticing how naked you are. “No, I didn’t have an alpha, Ad. Fuck.”

“Well, it surely  _smells_ like it.” She laughs, and the sound is short and cut off. Ad drops her bags to the floor, crossing her arms and looking around, fully taking in everything. When she notices the nest on the bed, she points to it with a small grin. “Told you, takes the edge off.”

“Please, Addy.” you beg, shuffling in place. Your thoughts are going a mile a minute— anxiety at the forefront of your mind. “You have clothes? Right?”

Her mouth forms into a small ‘O’, as though just remembering why she came here, and reaches down to unzip her bag and pull out a set of clothes, rolling it into a small ball and throwing it to you. You catch it, furrowing your brows at noticing exactly how sweaty your hands are, thumbing at the dryness of the fabric.

“Go take a shower,” Ad says. “ _Good lord_ , you need it. That chemical scent plus the smell of slick just does  not go together.”

You nod, slowly, and walk to the bathroom, slipping past the crack at the door and turning on the lights, laying the ball of clothes on the counter. You slowly start undressing, cringing when you watch streaks of spit and slick slide across your skin.

When you get into the shower and turn on the water, you brace yourself against the wall, the confined space amplifying the smell of your slick and the sweet, powerful smell of the alpha you ran into downstairs. It coils tightly in your nose, moves across your tongue and leaves a sour, tangy aftertaste that disappears after a few moments, only to build up again.

Grabbing bodywash off of the shower wall, you pour a small amount on your palm, and rub it into your neck, tummy and thighs. The smell’s familiar, and your mind clicks when you understand the smell is vanilla. _It’s almost... comforting, in a way._ _It smells like alpha_!  When the studs run over the arm  alpha touched, a small pang of sadness washes over you.

_ Why were you still calling him alpha? The fuck is he to you? You barely knew him and, fuck, he was just a man you met. A man you fucked yourself to, but a random man, nonetheless. _

You quickly wrap up your shower, careful to focus washing your hair where sweat was slicking it down and pressing soft circles against the skin on your thighs. Once you were done, you grab a towel off the side wall, squeezing the water out of your hair and wrapping it around your body. _There’s still that small_ _ twinge of regret— with washing away alph— that  man’s scent.  You really need to stop doing that._

_ You miss him.... miss his scent, god, his scent was the most delicious smelling scent you’ve ever smelled. It was just so... him. So wonderfully unique and perfect that no other alpha even came to being close to how amazing he smelled. _

Drying your hair, you put the clothes on Addy gave you. It was nice, a long-sleeved black tee with a neckline that  almost dips _too_ low, black jeans and a black, sleek belt that looks like it costs too much for a belt and light grey slide on flats that hugged your feet nicely.  It was a lot of.... _black_. Well, except for the shoes.  But then again, that was Addy’s style.  _Chic, sexy, but... tactical?_ The flats won’t fall off if you were running, and the jeans and shirt hug your body  _just_ right. Just enough room for movement.

You thumb the side of the belt, brows furrowing in confusion.  _No gun holster, and the belt certainly didn’t have any space to spare for a gun._

“Hey, Ad?” you call out to her, turning around and looking down the length of your legs. “Could you come here a minute?”

Her footsteps came around the corner and you see her shadow stop just behind the door. “You decent?”

You laugh and hum, “Yep.”

Addy opens the door slowly, peeking over until she’s sure your clothed, before pushing the door wide open. “Oh my god,” her eyes light up and you swear you see stars in them. “Holy shit, you look so cute!”

You roll your eyes, waving her off. “Is there no... holster?”

She leans against the door frame, smiling. “Why would you need a holster?”

“What if we’re attacked—“

Ad grabs your arm in her hand, giving you a little squeeze. “Y/N, we’re going for dinner, we’re not gonna get attacked.”

“Ad...” you trail off, biting your lip.

“Oh, please. It’ll be fun. Stop worrying about being  shot all the time.” she laughs, trying to lighten the mood— but when she notices exactly how sad you look, she wraps her arms around you to pull you into a crushing hug.

_Ocean waves, crystal clear waters, blinding sunlight, the small, lingering scent of coconuts and the taste of sweet, aged white wine. All so... Addy._

You smile against her, pulling away only when you begin to worry about your scent’s affect on her.  _Chemicals, acidic, synthetic. Ew._

“Fine,” you say slowly, and _good god, you hate how sad you sound._ “Do you at least have a knife to bring?”

She stares at you blankly for a minute before laughing. “Yes, I have a knife in my bag.”

When you open your mouth to speak again, she holds a hand up to your face. “But  I’m going to hold it. If we need it, at any point tonight, I’ll give it to you.”

You know Addy isn’t going to let up, so you decide to drop it.  Always so fucking stubborn,  but you wouldn’t have her any other way.

“ _Sooooo_ ,” she drawls, a funny, half-smile on her face. “Let’s go! I really need a night off, and  you’re here! We can finally have fun together after so long.”

You feel a small smile form on your lips, but your face falls once you think about the bedroom.  _It’s still a mess, and the smell... is still gross._

Addy, as though knowing what you’re thinking about, grabs your hand and leads you back into the bedroom. “Before you say anything,” she says, and there’s a small twinge of nervousness there, “I called room service to clean up.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, sweat forming against your palms. “Addy!” you hiss, “What? Why?”

“You’re really going to leave the room like this?” she cocks a brow, “It smells horrible. It needs cleaning. I left two coins for them when they come, It’ll be _fine_ , Y/N.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you wrap your arms back around yourself. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing.”

Addy snorts, rolling her eyes. “It’s room service, Y/N. It comes with the job, no one is  _judging_ you.”

“Well,” you tuck your hair behind your ear, gaze falling on the wet sheets and the jeans on the floor. You shiver with disgust. “It feels like it.”

“Hey,” Addy shrugs and then laughs, “It happens. _Fuck_ , even I’ve done it before.” 

You stare at her for a moment before shaking your head. “Yeah, right.”

She grabs your hands in hers, giving them a firm shake. “I’m serious. This isn’t new, Y/N. Every omega goes through this at least once in their life. Trust me, it’s  normal.”

“I— mmm, fine,” you bite your tongue. _You hate giving in,_ _ but Ad’s right— and you know it, it’s... normal. Then why did you feel so fucking weird about it? _

“So, where are we going?” you ask, trying to change the topic of the conversation. Addy smiles, grabbing her small bags from the floor and swinging it over her arms.

“First, food.” she says, letting one of the bags slide down her arms and into her hands. She sticks it out in front of you, shaking it in the air. “Hold this?”

Reaching out to grab it in your hands, your eyes widen at the weight of it.  _Fucking— damn!_ “You held this? The fuck’s in here?” when you open the bag to look inside, she slaps your arm so hard you know it’ll leave a mark.

“Don’t open it!” she yells, crossing her arms. “It’s things for later tonight. Now, let’s go,  _ggggooooddd_. I’m hungry.”

“Where are we going again?” you laugh, moving the bag on your arm to fit more comfortably. “A...  burger place?”

Addy frowns, giving you a glare when she opens the front door, gesturing for you to follow. “Actually, it’s a  _noodle_ place.” she corrects you, and you hold your hands up in defeat.

“Burger place, _pffft. What?_ ”  she mutters under her breath, just quiet enough for you to hear and you break out into laughter.

“Sorry,  _noodles_.”

Addy rolls her eyes again. “Shut up, and hurry, I’m hungry.”

You pout, walking past her and out into the hallway. “I know how mad you get when you’re hungry.” you joke, nudging her with your elbow. “ _Hangry_ Addy.”

She stares at you, opening her mouth to protest— but before she has the chance to, you bop her nose with your finger.

“Let’s go, hangry!” you call behind you as you make your way to the elevator.

Addy let’s out a frustrated growl, and you smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, stayed tuned for more!
> 
> I love to hear your guy’s thoughts, so please tell me about what you think about the story so far!
> 
> Until then. <3


	3. Fun And Games

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter you guys! Hope you guys enjoy this one. <3

It was nearly night when you reach the ‘noodle’ shop. And... by  noodle shop, it more of a run down diner on the outskirts of Chinatown. Your arms hurt from carrying the bag Addy have you, and on the way here, she had given you her other two, mumbling: ‘you’re the assassin here, aren’t you supposed to be strong or something?’ The way here had taken a toll on your legs, too—  _ Since Addy kept on saying how good of an idea it was to walk—  your legs felt like jelly, and  what the fuck was in her bags? F_ _uckin’ bricks?_

When you got closer to the restaurant, the smell is the first thing to hit you. It reeks almost  _ too much _ of alcohol, and a faint, sour garlicky smell arose from the piss in the sewers at the front. It’s fucking disgusting. You gag, cover your mouth, and furrow your brows.

_ Holy shit, you hope this isn’t the place your going to.  You have to stifle a laugh—  What the ffucck? Addy calls this shit a noodle shop? _

You move your hand from your mouth, clearing your throat. “Uhm, Ad?”

She hums in response, and  fucking god, she looks _far_ too happy right now. If the smell bothers her, she certainly doesn’t show it.

“Where are we?” you look around and swallow back on something hard. The street is vacant, lined with annoyingly bright lights and smells like _fucking_ _hell incarnate._ There’s no scents around— _well, none you can_ _ smell _ , and it makes you uneasy. “You’re not trying to... _kill me_ , are you?”

Addy waves you off, walking to the front door and pulling it open. She shushes you and says, “Shut up, just get inside.”

You reluctantly go inside, giving her a worried glare on the way in.  Well, it certainly smells better. _But fuck, is it cold._ _ Why the fuck is the AC on? It’s nearly sixty degrees outside _ _!_ There’s only one worker behind the counter— a tall, lanky man. He’s handsome. With soft, blue eyes and short red hair that  just hangs over his forehead. His nose is tall, and crooked— _probably the result of multiple nose breakings, certainly from having his head stuffed where it shouldn’t have been._ He gives you a small smile when you both walk over. And you open your mouth to smell his scent, you reel back at the smell of chemicals. It almost _smells like bleach, hot and fiery and lemony. It smells like cleaner fluid— like salty vinegar. It’s annoying. Your head feels like it’s gonna pop. Suppressants. No. Blockers?_ _ What the fuck is he using? If he is using suppressants, is that how you smell?  But he must be on a lot, no one you’ve ever met using suppressants smells this bad.  Unless you smell— _

You turn your head, and cross your arms, ignoring the bags when they brush against your legs. Shaking the thought away, you opt to take a look around. The shop looked...  _ normal._ It had a menu, it had booths— though both were extremely dirty and look as though they haven’t been cleaned in decades. And, if you look closely, you could see a thick layer of  dust on the cash register.  Scratch that. Nothing about any of this seemed remotely normal.  _ How is this shop still open with the amount of dirt around? _

“I’ll order two ramen bowls.” Addy says simply, and leans over the counter. Her arm smears dust over the granite, and you cringe.  Gross. “And do you have some whisked salad?”

The man straightens, and his face falls into something dark— something almost...  _ amused?_ With a quick nod of his head, he gestures to kitchen behind him. “Follow me, will you?”

Reaching out to grab Addy’s arm to stop her, she turns and shakes her head at you, mouthing,  It’s okay. Her scent fluctuates—  _sweet ocean waves, cool pineapple and strawberry slushees, a night dancing on the shores of Malibu, knee-high water and warm sand._ You feel your muscles fall, relax and then ease. Your heart is pounding loud in your ears.  _ You don’t trust this. This place. You don’t have a weapon, nothing to defend yourself with. Maybe, your hands, but the man seems to be far stronger than you. Body wise, he’s well built. Maybe, if anything happens, you can run to— _

Addy grabs your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers and ushering you to follow. Unease prickles again, feet shuffling against the floor, and you chew on your lip at the sound of the heels of your shoes as they squeak against the small off-white tiles.  _ You hate this so fucking much. _

You have an irresistible urge to open Addy’s bag, take out the knife and attack—  it was your instinct, but you’re quick to decide against it.  _ Nothing has even happened yet. Yet. Ha— oh my fucking god, why are you so paranoid? _

The man leads you past the kitchen and guides you to a dimly lit alley way just behind the shop.  The smell’s back. _Piss and shit_ and — you hold in a gag. The alley is one way only, and when the man holds his hand up to point down the street, his eyes gleam under the low light.

“Follow down there,” he nods his head, and his red hair bounces. “You’ll find a door, just, uh—“ he waves his hands at Addy, “Give them a coin. One for each person.”

Addy gives him a smile, it’s wide and happy and way too kind. “Thank you,” she moves her hand up to your elbow, where you’re holding her bags, leading you forward. You look behind you to find the man walking back into the shop, and your eyes narrow when he gives you a quick wink before disappearing.  _ That fucking chemical smelling mother fucke— _

“I thought we were going to a noodle shop?” you hiss, adjusting the bags on your arms. “Where the fuck are we, Ad?”

She laughs, and the sound echoes loud. “Calm down, Y/N. We’re  fine . I come here whenever I need to.. wind down? We’re safe, I promise.”

“You come to an  alley way to wind down?” you ask, cocking your brow.

“What? No.” Addy shakes her head, tightens her grip of your elbow and walks faster, “We’re going to... _club_.”

“What?” you pull away, ignoring the pain that shoots up your arm when her fingers catch on the bags, eyes wide. “A club? Ad. I want to  eat, I’m starving. I  told you, I didn’t want to go clubbing yet.”

Addy rolls her eyes, and points down the alley. “There is food.  Good food. And there are noodles— look, you just have to trust me.” she then points at the bags in your hands and smiles. “I bought us both dresses. There’s a changing room, we can change there. There’s makeup artists, everything. Come  on , let’s have fun!”

You open your mouth to speak, look behind you, turn back around and then close it. _It’s_ _ tempting, to have fun with Ad, but after the events earlier, you were just  really looking forward to chatting with Ad and eating some fuckin’ noodles. And sure, you’ll be able to still, but all while in dresses, surrounded by sweaty, grinding bodies and with three hundred different scents up your ass.  _ Your head pounds, and you sigh. “I dunno,”

Ad brings you into a hug, and you twitch when her hair rubs against your gland— _a sugary, energized shock pulsing up your arms_. “Just like old times,” she whispers, and her voice sounds all too loud in your ears. “P _lleeeeaassee_?“

Sighing, you pat her back and lean back. “Fine.” you give her a smile, and your heart jumps at seeing her smile back.  _ You’re not giving her much of a fight, and you wonder if it’s maybe because you secretly want to go._ Ad grabs the bags from you, rubbing the skin where the bags had been and gestured her head down the alley way. “Come on, let’s get frea-kaay!” she grabs you arm again, making sure to avoid the sore area of skin where the bags were and pulling you along.

The closer you neared— what you  assumed to be the end of the alley way— blaring, loud club music began to roar in your ears. And the smell, It‘s  weirdly _sweet_ , _with a twinge of sour that blends so perfectly together, a mix of scents, all so_ _ natural. Alphas, betas and omegas together in a state of complete euphoria. The shadow of sex is creeping up fast— you can smell it. The sweat, the aching glands— the  desire. _Ad stops at a dingy, run down building, walking to the door and pulling two coins out of her pocket, slipping it through an opening on the side panel directly next to the door.

There’s a click, then a loud, mechanical buzz. The door all but flies open, revealing a tall, dark man. He’s an alpha. You can smell it immediately.  _ And holy gods, his scent is overwhelming. All power and fire and  ash,_ and when he sees both of you, he gives you a curt nod, gesturing into the building. The lights are a dim lavender, and the music’s even louder now— there’s another alley.  _ How many fucking alleys are there? How many do you need? _

Ad grabs your arm again—  _ she loves doing that, doesn’t she?—  _ and pulls you forward. She gives the man a small smile and continues on her way, but you let your eyes linger just long enough to see him stare at her ass. Your eyes widen, and your blood begins to  boil.

 _ What the fuck? Prick!  Your gland floods with rage, you’re gonna shove Addy’s knife so far up his ass he’s gonna be chewing on titanium _ — You bare your teeth, giving him a warning glare, and before you get the chance to say anything, Ad tugs your arm and nearly sends you flying into her back.

“It’s  fine,” she whispers, and continues walking. You furrow your brows—  that prick just — you shake your head.  _ You really couldn’t be talking right now. You fucked yourself to an alpha you didn’t know, you really didn’t have room to say anything. So you ignore the heat threatening to rip you open, and follow Addy. _

Ad walks up to two big double doors, and from how loud the music is now, you assume that’s were the club is. Lights dance under the doorframe, and before she walks in—  like you expect her to — she rounds the corner, pushes open a door on the right and walks inside.  _ Oh? Oh! Okay. _

Ushering you inside, you almost don’t have enough time to take in everything. Four salon chairs, a long mirror, curtains— three women—  _ wait, three women? All omegas, just like you and Ad. You know immediately. They all smell so  sweet ,  _ _melted marshmallows, chocolate fondu, savory pineapples, freshly picked strawberries—_ you suddenly feel self conscious.

_How do you smell to them?_ Bringing a hand up to your neck, you cup your fingers around it in a sad way of muting your scent. Where’s your perfume— _oh. Shit. Perfume’s at the hotel. God damnit! So fucking stupid—_

Addy gives your hand a small squeeze before walking further into the room.

One of the women are sitting in one of the chairs, while another played with her hair. On the farthest right side of the room, another one is leaning lazily against the wall, a phone in one hand and a mirror in the other— she’s pretty.

_Well, they’re all pretty, they’re beautiful, really._ But this one stood out. Her hair’s a snowy white and she has the most amazing blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Ad waves her over, and when she does, you watch as the white-haired woman lets out an excited gasp. She skips over, and you have to stifle back a laugh at it.  _Cute._

They exchange hugs, and you approach slowly.  _Addy knows her? Addy knows a lot of people, and you’re not surprised. She’s a fun person to be around. Perhaps she met her when you gone for work...?_

Ad points to you, and you shrink back when the woman walks over, handing out a hand to you. Her eyes are so bright. Taking it slowly, you give it a firm shake. She smells amazing, and you realize the pineapples and strawberries you smelled earlier was  _her_ — _she smells so sweet, and her scent moves like water._ _ Sour blackberries ,  pressed bananas, juicy watermelon, oh my god, you swear you’re getting high off it. _

“I’m Angelica, but please, call me Ang,” she says, and  _wow, h_ er voice is low. _It’s flows so beautifully, like thick, sweet, syrupy honey._ She has a small accent— barely noticeable, and you struggle to pin point it. _Is it British? Irish?_

_ Angelica. The name suits her.  Angel. Ang. _

“You’re Y/N, right?” she asks, and she leans forward a little. “I’ve heard so much about you from Addy! It’s so good to finally meet you, really. You’re even more beautiful than Ad said you were.”

You let out a nervous laugh, and nod. “Yep, that’s me.” your eyes widen.  _ ‘Yep, that’s me’? What the fuck? Way to go, Y/N. Awkward as fuck.  _ “It was nice to meet you, too.”

Angelica pulls away and turns her head toward Ad. “You need makeup again?”

Addy shakes her head and then gestures toward you. “I did my makeup,” she says. “ _Buuuuttt_ , she needs her’s done. Mind doing her hair, too?” you watch her set the bags down on the floor, shuffling through the contents.

Ang waves her off with a smile, “Nah, don’t mind it. I’m more than glad to pretty her all up.” she turns back toward you and you suddenly feel way too hot— _oh, shit, is your face red? Oh god, it’s red, isn’t it?_

“Please, sit,” Angelica leads you to a salon chair, waiting until you get comfortable to play with your hair. “What do you wanna do tonight?”

“Oh!” Ad jumps from her place with her bags, pulling out a deep red dress to bring over to you. Your eyes widen,  Ad wants you to wear that ? “Could you match it with this? Something _sexy_? Something... smoked out, maybe?”

Ang nods her head and takes a small section of your hair and twirls it around her finger. She hums, and them takes all your hair up into her hands into a messy bun at the top of your head before letting it fall. You squirm in your seat, thumbing the fabric of your—  well, Addy’s — jeans.

 _You hate this. Being in a salon chair, gods, this is not what you expected you’d be doing tonight. You didn’t expect anything tonight! Fucking yourself to that random fucking alpha— being here, at a club, getting styled up_ — your heart was pounding far too fast for your comfort , but you take a breath, lean back, close your eyes, and stay still all while Angelica does your makeup and hair. It doesn’t take that long,  maybe thirty minutes, tops , but she does an amazing job. 

_ It looks great—  _ _you look great_.  A bold lip, a twinge of blush and a dark shadow. It fits you, in a weird, almost metaphoric kind of way. _If looks could kill..._ _well, you literally kill, you are, in fact, an assassin. Which is by no means a bad thing, you mean— you’re rambling. Fuck! Shut up!_

Ad then ushers you behind a curtain, which you finally understand is the changing room, and hands you over the dress, along side a slip of rubber... sticky adhesives.

“This is for..?” you flip it over in your fingers, furrowing your brows.

Ad laughs, then pats your shoulder. “It’s for...” she vaguely gestures to your breasts, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Since the dress is strapless, take off your bra, and put those on. You really don’t know this?”

“I never really wear dresses,” you shrug, running the pads of your fingers over the dress.

The fabric is nice— it has to be expensive— and before you get the chance to say something to Ad about it, she slides the curtain closed. You struggle to put both of it on before you finally get it, and when you turn toward the mirror— _ holy fucking hell, the dress doesn’t cover shit! _

It fits like a glove on you, which you would consider to be a  good thing—if it wasn’t so  _ revealing _ . The leg slit is so close to your crotch you’re certain one wrong move and you’ll flash everyone your ass. You try adjusting it, letting out a loud sigh when the fabric won’t budge. Grabbing your clothes that you mindlessly threw on the floor, you tell Ad to bring a bag over. Addy makes herself known by humming behind the curtain, and when you move to open it, your jaw drops.  _ Oh! Oh, oh my god!  _ She’s wearing a black sparkly dress that gleams in the light. It hugs her body nicely. It fits her perfectly— but it’s nowhere _near_ as revealing as yours.  _ She did this on purpose. _

“You look so nice, Ad!” you say, folding your clothes and slipping it into the bag she brought over.

Her eyes light up, and your heart nearly jumps out your chest.

_ She looks so happy. _

“You think?” she does a playful twirl, and the dress spins at her feet. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” she gives you a quick wink, and you roll your eyes, slapping her arm before walking past her.

The other two omegas that were in the room are gone now,  _probably at the club_ ,  but Angelica is patiently waiting for you to by the salon chairs. When she sees you, she smiles wide. 

“ _Oooh_ ,” she swoons, walking up and rubbing her hands over the fabric of the dress at your hips. “ _ Sexy.  _ No one will be able to take their eyes off you, I can promise you that.”

_Yeah, because that’s what you need right now— a bunch of horny alphas, omegas and betas rubbing up on you, how fun?_

From your peripheral, you watch as Ad grabs a pair of shoes from one of the bags by the wall, brining them over to drop one at your feet. A simple pair of red kitten heels. You shoot her a glare, but she only gives you a cheesy smile before slipping on a set of black pumps.

“You gonna join us?” she asks Angelica, rubbing on the front of her heel before standing to her full height. 

Angelica shakes her head, smiling, “Nah, I usually stay in here. Have fun, though. And don’t get too drunk!”

After putting your heels on, you experimentally roll your feet in them—  _ you won’t be able to run in these. If anything happens, you’ll have to take the heels off— it’s an inconvenience. You don’t trust clubs. Never did. Too many people. Too many people blocking exit points. Too much grinding and fucking and horniness.  _

Addy laughs, then gives Angelica a small hug. “Thank you, Ang. We’ll see you later tonight, mind keeping an eye on our bags?”

Your head snaps to the bags on the floor.  _ Addy’s knife. Will you need it tonight? If something happens, what will you use to defend yourself? Will anything happen tonight? _

Ang nods her head, humming, “Yeah, I will. Have fun!” 

Addy grabs your hand and pulls you over to the door, which causes you to nearly lose your footing in the heels.  _ How the fuck is this going to work? _

She waves Angelica goodbye, opening the door and shoving you out of it.

“Whoa, _ oh, ho_!” you balance yourself against the wall before straightening out and giving Ad a look. The music’s pounding in your ears again, and you feel a shadow of a headache beginning to form. She’s already walking to the club doors, and right before she enters she juts our her hip.

“Mind being a little less forceful?” you hiss out, carefully walking over to where she is by the doors. “What’s with these fucking heels, anyway?  _ Inconvenient _ as shit.”

Rolling her eyes, Ad interlocks your elbows and shakes her head toward the door. “It’s a _club_ , Y/N. A good one. You can’t just wear jeans and a shirt and call it a day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you huff, kicking your leg out when you feel the dress begin to bunch up around your thighs. _Fucking dress_!

She holds in a laugh, pushes open the door and flashing lights flood your vision.  _ Club lights. Way too fucking bright and annoying. _

Addy leads you forward, _and the smell of_ _ sweat and sex and sugar hit you like a car going 100 miles per hour. Jesus fucking Christ, it’s overwhelming. It’s way too fucking much and it’s bombarding you, flowing so freely around you that it’s sickening. _

_ Sex, sweat, grinding bodies and pure, raw, unfiltered bliss. _

_ Eyes are on you.  _

Ad speaks, but you barely catch it over the music in your ears. “You’re gonna be fine,”

The dress nearly rides up higher on your leg and you have to push it down.

_ You don’t believe her. _

_Not one fucking bit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little calm before the storm, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! <3
> 
> Feel free to tell me what you think so far!


	4. Rolling My Dice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a little bit since I posted, I’m really sorry about that!
> 
> There’s been some personal things I’ve been struggling with lately, and I don’t think this is the best chapter, but I’m a little bit more on track now and hopefully I’ll post a lot more actively.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

Addy didn’t bring you to any ordinary club. She brought you to a fucking  strip club.

And the sheer size of it is mind blowing.  What reason would a strop club have to be so fucking big for?  High ceilings, glass chandeliers, marble columns, wide, rectangle stages.

Poles. Lots of poles.

As Addy leads you through waves of grinding, sweaty bodies and a clustered group of dancers, you grit your teeth and try to ward off the smell. It’s too much. Too heady, too  erotic . Too many  scents packed together. There’s a muted smell of weed in the air— which doesn’t surprise you, but there’s thin screen of smoke floating above your head, and it gives the whole club a clouded out, greyish wash.

The smell of fresh bubbly alcohol hangs in the air, light and feathery. Buried underneath layers of overlapping scents andhot sweat.

Addy’s grip on your hand is tight, and you know it’s because she’s scared of losing you in the crowd. Her fingers are dangerously close to brushing over your gland, and you pull away just enough so that she can still hold on. Leading you to the bar, she pushes you down into an empty seat before sitting down next to you and asking the bartender for beers.

“So, you likey?” she shimmies her shoulders, voice low over the music. “Pretty cool place, huh?”

“It’s a strip club, Addy,” you raise an eyebrow and frown. “I thought we were gonna eat noodles?”

She barks out a laugh and turns to watch the dancers. “Yeah... there’s no noodles.” frowning, she casts a small glance your way. “Sorry, I just thought maybe you’d agree if I mentioned  noodles. There is food, though.”

“Yeah,” you shake your head, “That’s what I thought. But, hey,” you force out a laugh, “Your plan worked.”

“I guess it did,” Ad laughs again, throaty and sweet. 

Rolling your eyes, you decide to change the subject. “So,” you drawl, “When did you meet Angelica?”

She turns her head toward you, a grin on her lips. “What’s it to ya?”

You shuffle in your seat. “I just wanna know. She seems like you’ve known her for a while.”

Addy hums, “Not long. I met her while you were on that mission for a couple of months. I don’t know, I felt bored, I guess.”

Ah. So she did meet her while you were on a job.  Your heart sinks— was Addy  lonely without you? 

Crossing your arms, a frown tugs at your lips. “I’m sorry, Ad.”

She shakes her head and smiles, “Hey, don’t get all sad on me now. Where have you been? Killing people?”

You give her a glare and she giggles, “Sorry, handling people? Is that better? I just want to know where you’ve been these past months.”

If you were honest, these past few months have been wild for you. Too many bloody noses. Too many cuts and bruises. Always keeping track of taking your suppressants and balancing your sexual frustrations— all while coping with wintry Morocco nights. It was a bumpy job, a lot bumpier than you’d like. Took longer than usual, and you hated it when you were there. You still hate it. It should’ve been an easy job, you know that. 

Bastien Volkov was your target. A Russian drug dealer who had his nose where it didn’t belong, and, consequently, it cost him his life. He was an alpha, just as driven and ambitious as the rest, but he had a big head that didn’t  quite sit right. He was far too proud of his place, his role, his  rank . It was nothing new, by any means. Alphas tended to be like that—  power hungryz Always hungry for the need to be in control. It was biological. 

You wave her off, shrugging, “Work is... work.”

The bartender comes back with two bottles of beer, and Ad slides a coin over. “Work is work, huh?” she hands you your bottle before popping hers open and taking a sip. “Tell me more, I’m interested now.”

You turn in your seat and wiggle you legs to fix your dress from riding up too high, “I don’t know how to describe it,” you begin, opening your beer and taking back a long swig. You hiss when the cold alcohol burns the back of your throat. “Well, I was in Morocco. Had to handle a guy called Bastien. It was... hard. But it payed well.”

Ad’s nodding her head as you speak, “Ah, really? How much?”

“$600,000.” you say simply, “Pretty high bounty, but I could’ve been quicker. I wasn’t supposed to be there so long. It sucked. It was... cold, but the sights made up for that, I guess.”

Addy takes a gulp of her beer before placing it on the counter. “I was really worried, to be honest,” she confesses, “You were gone for a while. How long do you have until another job?”

You frown when you remember you left your phone at the Continental. You sigh, “I don’t know, I usually just get called by a contractor. Usually the Russians. TheLebedev Mob is a big one, but I’ve done jobs for the Italians before. I just have to wait until I get called.”

“ Ahh ,” Addy leans back in her seat, “That’s how it works? I’m just a bartender, I don’t really,” she gestures to you, “Ya’ know, kill people.”

You take a long drink of your beer before directing your attention toward the crowd. Half-naked women are dancing freely on their respective stages, couples are grinding against each other and you can just make out a group of alphas talking amongst each other at the end of the bar. Their scents are hot in the air, and you roughly shake your head to diffuse the smell.

“Wanna talk about... assassin gossip?” Ad asks, and when you turn back you lean away when you notice how close she is.

“Assassin gossip? What the fuck is  that?” you laugh, setting your beer down on the counter.

“I don’t know,” she says, “Whats going on in the assassin world that’s interesting right now?”

You look at her in disbelief, “You’re asking me? Ad, the last time I heard anything remotely interesting was when that one dude killed some guys in a bar with a pencil. I’m the worst person to ask, I mean, how long ago did that happen?”

“John Wick?” she takes another sip of her beer before tilting her head to the side. 

“Ah,” you snap your fingers, “‘Baba Yaga’, is that his name?”

John Wick. The infamous legend of the underworld. The Reaper, The Devil— Death himself. When his name is spoken, there’s a large amount of fear and respect that comes with it. He’s the one who’s  a bit too good at his job. The..  Baba Yaga. You’ve never met him, or come across him, and you’re glad you haven’t.  Gods, you don’t even want to imagine what it’d be like to be on the bad side of John Wick. You’d much rather keep your head— or any part of your body free from pencils, thank you very much.

Addy nods her head and smiles, “I know him, actually. We’re... friends.”

Oh.

“Oh?” you grin nudging her shoulder, “Are you now?”

She gives you a look, “Yes, actually. When he used to come to the bar at the Continental, I served him. Nice man, when he’s not... killing.”

Holding in a laugh, grab your bottle and tip back your beer and swallow it down until it’s nearly gone. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you shake your head. “Can’t imagine it. Isn’t he supposed to be some glorified killing machine?”

“He was— Is?” she takes a drink of her beer, “He retired, but he’s back, I think, but I’ve heard around that he’s out again. I saw him not that long ago. Lost his... wife. And someone from the Tarasov mob killed his puppy and stole his car. Pretty fucked up, really.”

“Retired?” you ask, swallowing the rest of your beer before setting it down. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard of any of this,” Ad cocks her brow, grinning. “Where have you been? Living under a rock?”

Basically.

“Work.”  you reply, crossing your arms.

“Oh! Yeah,” she takes another sip and leans forward, her gland aching with excitement. “How’d you get involved in all this? Ya’ know, you’ve given me the shitty, watered down version. What fucked you up so hard that you ended up in all this?”

You laugh, “You’re asking a lot of questions, tonight Ad.”

“It’s the alcohol,” she waves the bottle around, “What can I say?”

“You’ve literally taken like... four sips.” you point out, reaching out to put a hand on her leg, giving it a squeeze. “And I’ll tell you, soon enough. I promise, when I’m ready.”

That’s a story for another time.

Another, another time.

Addy nods, and smiles. She knows not to pry— so she instead calls back over the bartender and asks for shots. 

“Keep em’ coming,” she says, swallowing back the rest of her beer before setting it down on the counter next to her. 

“You think that’s a good idea, Ad?” you say as the bartender sets down two small shot glasses with a large bottle of expensive, pearlescent vodka.

“Yeah,” she says, and smiles when the bartender pours her drink and hands it to her. In one fluid motion, she swallows it back and nearly squeals as it runs down her throat. Grabbing your shot, she hands it over. “We really need to get loose. Drink.”

You reluctantly take it from her, watching the vodka splosh against the sides of the glass before bringing it to your lips and throwing it down. Your mouth burns, and you make a small face of disgust. “That‘s hard as fuck.”

Addy laughs, takes the vodka bottle and refills both of your shots. “Let’s keep going,”

Shaking your head, you move to set the shot down, “Let’s cool it, we both still need to walk back to the Continental.”

She laughs, gently steering your shot glass to your mouth. “I can call a cab, Y/N. Come on, have fun.  Let’s have fun! I’ve missed you.”

You let out a sigh, lazily swirling your glass.

What harm would a little fun do? Well, a lot— no. Fuck, you’re just paranoid. You’re fine. Addy’s here with you. You both have each other.

You’ve been to fucking hell and back these past few weeks. Why not let loose?

You need this. You need to have fun.

Purple and blue lights dance through the club, loud pop music pressing against the walls.

Fuck it.

Swallowing back the shot, you let yourself fall into the fizz of alcohol bubbling in your head.

* * *

“ Oh, please! You want it, look at you!” he growled.

He’s an alpha and he’s  seething.It’s coming off him in waves, hot and heavy.  What a shit-eating prick. Fuck! He smells like goddamn garbage, you smell it halfway across the bar.

“I don’t want shit from you, asshole!” you hiss, angrily walking over to where he’s standing at the end of the bar.

You don’t bother to keep your voice down. You want him to hear you. Loud and clear. After drinking so much, you have no control over your emotions - you’re  pissed .

You’re shaking with rage, gland red and irritated.

Ad excuses herself to the bathroom, and the  moment she leaves? A drunk - hulking, behemoth of an alpha with no sense of respect calls out to you from over the music: “Looking for a fuck, sugar?”

Who the fuck?

God, his scent is shit - and it’s hitting you hard.  Gasoline, shitty instant coffee you’d find at coffee shops and dry, burnt cinnamon. It’s disgustingly strong - disgustingly  alpha . It’s too much, and it’s coming at you too fucking fast-

“Who the fuck are you trying to kid, omega?” he sneers, and  holy hell , his voice is drilling a goddamn  hole in your head. “I can smell you underneath all those fuckin’ suppressants, what are you tryna hide? What? You smell like shit?”

“Have you smelled yourself?” you ask, voice heavy, “Got your head so far up your ass you can’t tell how fuckin’ disgusting  you smell?”

You need to stop talking. But Christ, you’re mad.

“Listen, bitch-“ he begins, but he’s quickly interrupted by his friend - an alpha, who seemingly has had less to drink.

You watch as he brushes them off and turns his attention back to you. His eyes are blazing, dark and pitch black underneath the club lights.

There’s tension in the air.

He jabs a finger at your chest, and your blood roars in your ears - mother fucker.

“Stand down, omega, I won’t ask your ass again.”

You’re sick of this. You’re losing all your sense of calm - and for what? An absolute arrogant alpha prick? A grade A asshole?

His pheromones are darting - he’s waiting. He wants a fight. He wants you to be scared of him. His nostrils flare, and your stomach threatens to rumble.

Fucker.

You hate this.

“Oh, please,” you spit, “Don’t give your ignorant ass more credit than you deserve. Shit-eating mother fucker-“

Anger practically oozes from his gland- and he punches you so fucking hard your head spins.

The sound echoes loud, and  shit , does it hurt.

You laugh - and it gurgles in your throat. Bringing your hand up to wipe at your nose: you scowl when blood smears against your skin.

Moving to stand up, your head pounds - when did you get on the floor? Hot, boiling rage is pooling in your stomach - dancing freely in the air. You can almost smell it, and you’re sure half the club can smell it, too. It’s punchy and bitter under the acidic veil of your suppressants - your patience is long gone by now.

His scent scatters in victory; he’s  proud . A hum is deep in his chest, dry and low. You cast your eyes away, down on the floor.

There’s a instinctual need to submit: to give up.

Alpha has beaten you.

Today was fucked and you’re over it.

You look him straight in the eyes.

“Fuck yourself,” you seethe, and you roll your right foot slowly in your heel, still stinging from the fall. 

Goddamn prick can fuck off.

He snorts, and it’s disgusting how happy he almost sounds. “Listen, omega, I just asked if you wanted to fuck, didn’t have to get all defensive alright?”

“What the fuck is happening!?” an arm wraps around your waist and spins you around, and your head nearly sways with the force of it. 

“Addy,” you breathe.

“No, what the fuck? Y/N? What happened? You’re fucking bleeding! Tell me what happened!” Ad shakes you, and you have to pull away when you start feeling dizzy.

“Nothing,” you hiss, turning half-way to shoot a glare over at the alpha across from you.

“This isn’t nothing, Y/N, is your nose broken? Are you okay, please, tell me what happened?” her eyes furrow in concern, and you can tell just by looking at her how scared she is by all this. 

“Listen, Ad, it’s nothing. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” you grab her arms and give them a squeeze, “I’m fine,” you give her a small, forced smile, and you can’t help but think how dumb you must look with blood coming from your nose. “See? Let’s go.”

Her eyes go straight to the alpha across from you two. 

He probably looks happy as fuck.

Alpha prick.

Her scent breaks, and it’s all hot and fiery, burnt pine wood and rocking seas. 

She’s angry.

“He did this, didn’t he?” she whispers to you.

You shake your head, “Ad, no, let’s go to the hotel.”

“No!” she shakes her head, sticking up her middle finger to the man and shaking it in a small circle. “You see this, fucker? Fuck you!”

You don’t dare look over, so you instead grab both of her arms and start pulling her away with a harsh, “We’re fucking leaving”.

Ad struggles against you, and you can tell just how frustrated she is by her scent alone: and it’s intense, all fire and fresh charcoal. She nearly vibrates against you, and you would’ve laughed had you not been in this situation right now, nose stinging and aching and on fucking fire because you just got socked in the nose by an alpha, and you laugh, almost, by the weight of the situation because of how unreal it fucking is.

“No! No! The fucker needs to pay, Y/N, what the fuck are you doing!?”

When you’re outside, you push her back and she nearly topples over onto the alley way. It’s cold, and it takes you a brief moment to register the small droplets of water hitting the bridge of your nose.

“We’re leaving, Addy. We have to go.” you say, and move to grab her arm again to move her along before she pulls back and shakes her head.

“No.” she crosses her arms.

“Addy, we need to go, okay? We’ve had enough to drink, this isn’t fun anymore.” 

“I’m going back inside,” she says simply. “And I’m going to beat his ass.”

You laugh, “No, you aren’t. You’re going to leave with me.”

She gives you the most desperate, sad look and you can’t help but feel bad. 

“Addy.” you warn.

“He punched you, Y/N? You’re just gonna let that pass?”

You give her a look, “I’ve had worse, Addy, you know that. This isn’t anything.”

She rubs her arms and clears her throat. “That still doesn’t make it right. That prick should still pay.”

“Hey,” you grab her arms and give her a shake, “Forget it, okay? Let’s go. I’m tired, and I need to clean this blood off.”

She looks deep in your eyes and you can feel her thinking, feel her roll the situation over and over in her mind before saying: “Fine.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’ve holding, and leaning your head against her shoulder, you smile.

“Thank you.”

Addy frowns. “He’s still an ass, though. A fucking dick, really. I want to kick his ass so fucking bad for what he did to you. I’m so sorry I wasn’t th—“

“Addy.”

She laughs, and it’s small. “Sorry.”

You pull back, and look over your shoulder. “Do you need to get your things?”

Ad shakes her head, grabbing your hands and intertwining your fingers. “No, we can just go. I don’t want you to go back there. I’ll call a cab, I can just tell Angelica to give us the bags later.”

You sigh.

“This night has been fucked,” you drawl lowly. 

“Talk about it.”

There’s a calm silence, and the soft sound of the rain hitting the sidewalk.

“Wanna go now?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

“Good.” she laughs, “Let’s go clean up that blood. God, I feel bad about not being there.”

She turns, and begins walking down the alley, her hand in yours.

“Ad.”

She laughs. “Sorry.”

“It’s not even your fault.”

Addy slaps your arm, and you give her a glare.

“What was that for?”

“For not letting me beat the shit out of him.”

“Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? Make sure to tell me below, I love reading your guy’s comments. 
> 
> Make sure to leave Kudos, I really appreciate it! <3
> 
> Until next time.


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